Empty Shell
by TheOtherLachance
Summary: Bellatrix thinks about herself, and reflects on her life.
1. Chapter 1

She wanted to go to the Ministry. She wanted to torture, she wanted to kill. Killing and murder was fun. Blood was beautiful. Torture was fun. The idea of destroying a life excited her; it made her feel powerful. Sometimes, Bellatrix wondered if she was brave. She wasn't sure she wanted to be "brave" most of the time, because courage was the Gryffindor virtue. She supposed, however, that she was brave, if she had to pick one "good" virtue. Or maybe she wasn't. Was standing up for someone she loved brave? Was going through Azkaban brave? Was returning now to fight her love's enemy... Brave?

He certainly wasn't brave.

Bellatrix hates him. Her master. How could he not see how much she loves and admires him? He is her all, her life, her everything. She tried to kill herself before, and that was one of the times she knew that she wasn't "brave". She couldn't slit her wrists. She knows she is an empty shell. She only lives to kill, and torture, and to be used. Bellatrix knows she is little more than a weapon. That's all her "love" sees her as. Something to be used, something powerful, but just a possession. Voldemort doesn't love. Voldemort doesn't have friends. Voldemort has possessions. And she is his prize possession.

Bellatrix feels, sometimes, that she is just an object. She knows she is beautiful, and she doesn't care. Objects are beautiful, are they not? Sometimes, she feels like an empty beach shell. Beautiful on the outside, but empty and dry on the inside. She kills and tortures to try and make herself feel something that's not madness. She likes to feel exhilarated, and happy, because the adrenalin of fighting makes her forget that she is mad and that nobody loves her. It makes her know that she is strong, and powerful, and that she could defeat anyone.

She went to the ministry to have that feeling of control. She did not go to the ministry to kill Sirius. No, she duelled him. She gets animalistic when she fights, when her wand slashes it is without control. She barely knew what she was doing as she fired killing spells at him, her baby cousin whom she once loved and adored. She gets her mind back as a killing curse flies within an inch of his beautiful, thick, curly hair, and hits a wall, making it crumble into dust. It is then when she realises that he is Little Siri, her old favourite cousin. It is then that she tries to take him out of the battle, to stun him, to make sure that he doesn't get hurt... She hasn't felt love for anyone but herself for so long. Not fanatical love, as she feels for Voldemort, but true love, true feeling in her heart. She rejoices in that moment, as her cold, ice heart starts to beat again... It couldn't last.

As she remembers that day, she thinks of it bitterly. She knew that she, Bellatrix Lestrange, could not feel anything good and happy for long. It was God's punishment upon her. God would not let her feel love, in revenge for the many time she scorned love and the happiness only love could deal.

It was too late, she knew, when the stunning spell hit Sirius and blasted him backwards. He'd been laughing; she remembered that, as he fell back. He'd been taunting her, and telling her how pathetic she was. That'd made her angry. In fact, it was a kind of relief as well as a tearing pain as he fell backwards into the veil of death. As it enveloped him, she screamed; out of ecstasy or grief she could not fathom. And she could hear another scream intermingled with hers: the Potter boy was screaming too, in rage and immense sadness. She ran then, ran for her very life up the marble stairs. She could hear shrieks of fury and curses being thrown at her, but she did not stop until she'd skidded into a lift. She pounded the button hard, and she saw Harry Potter running into view just as the doors shut...

Bellatrix was in a sort of daze then. She was laughing, hysterical, and she knew she must have looked completely insane at that moment. Somehow, she didn't even care. The warm hand of dementia held her again, and when she exited the lift, she skipped like a child towards the exit, screaming at the top of her lungs: "I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!" The heard Potter running after her, and let out a laugh that echoed around the atrium. She would play with him, she thought in her insane brain. She stopped, and began to tease him.

She remembered the look on his face as she verbally tortured him, reminded him of all these things, and taught him how to use an unforgivable spell... She loved corrupting the boy who lived; she could see the murder in his green eyes, and the bloodlust. It was fun to do this to him, and she knew that soon he would try to strike, and she would destroy him...

But no, it was not to be.

_Reviews appreciated, but I have a few more chapters coming up, documenting Bellatrix's madness and some moments from the books and films showing that the most. Don't worry, more is coming..._


	2. Chapter 2

Bellatrix Lestrange was alone. She could feel nothing, there was nobody around her, and she was completely free. Well, no, Greyback, Snape, the Carrows, and Yaxley were behind her, along with her nephew. But, no, she was free, flying like a bird, swooping through the forbidden forest full of joy. Bellatrix felt like she was filled with air; she squealed and sang, absolutely insane, dancing through the tight thickets of the woods. She could hear angry yelling from behind them but, no, she did not care; all she could feel was that they'd KILLED Albus Dumbledore, and he was dead, and all was good! The adrenalin filled her, as she blasted random sparks into the air, trying to find some way to show her energy to the world.

The forbidden forests trees were thickly placed at small intervals, and she danced around each one like an insane forest pixie. Her thick, glossy, dark, curly hair whipped out at all angles, and running, and leaping. She felt incredible! This was the most feeling she'd had in her empty soul for years, and she loved it! Bellatrix felt human again, no longer an empty shell; she knew it was only temporary, but she didn't even care. She'd broken the great hall windows with a gust of air from her wand, and the glass had cut her, but she hadn't even felt the pain... Glass from the windows was littered all over the hall, and a cold wind whooshed through the empty panes. Bellatrix ran across the table, heart full and beating again, as she kicked the plates and cups from their places. She felt like a child again, young, but so guilty and evil, and twisted! She leapt from the table, skidding among the broken glass to land alongside Draco. He looked at her, in terror and awe, as she grinned madly at him.

"C'mon, Draco!" she grabbed his arm, and pulled him along with her: the boy that resembled her so little... He was no fun at all, she thought, as she dropped his limp arm and skipped along on her own, shouting swear-words at the skies. A small, blonde child was standing in a corner in a pink dressing gown, looking tiny and pathetic. She wanted to kill it, to splatter its blood on the wall behind it, but there was no time... Her madness thinned a little, as she leant down and leered at the child...

"Boo!" She cried, and cackling at the terrified look on the girls face, sprinted onwards to catch up with the others.

Students had lined the walls, staring at the Death Eaters, in fear and terror and, in a few cases, glory. The other Death Eaters had marched forwards, staying oblivious to the booing students around them. Bellatrix shrieked with laughter, and some of them drew back, scared that she might kill them too. At that moment, she truly was insane, and she knew it... And she loved it. Her evil heart was beating once more, and she never wanted that moment to end, as she saw people knowing her name, uttering it on frightened lips, knowing that she could cause them pain beyond imagining.

It was like a sort of love, Bellatrix thought, as she remembered what had happened just a few minutes ago as she had terrified all these students. One had stepped forwards, a tall, dark haired boy who looked to be about 15 years old. He was wearing a slightly too short red dressing gown, and he looked furious.

"You murderers!" He bellowed, waving his arms, looking so angry that he might explode. "You filthy Death Eaters! You deserve to die!"

Bellatrix cackled at him, and with a flick of her wand, the boy was writhing on the floor, dying, screaming a deaths rattle that clutched at the heart and made you want to die with the thing that was making this terrible noise, to help him! He was lying on the floor, tears of hate and pain dripping down his face, as the students around him backed away. Some were crying, Bellatrix had noted, but none were brave enough to reach out a hand and help him...

The other Death Eaters had stopped, and some were laughing. Bellatrix laughed too, throwing her head back, and some were dazzled by her immense, dangerous beauty at that point. The boy from Gryffindor who she'd been torturing was now on a heap on the floor, sobbing, the pain gone from his body but the ache was now there, like a creature pulling at his soul... Bellatrix had advanced on him, raising her wand once again, and the hall was deathly silent as all eyes were upon her and him.

"What's your name, vermin?" whispered Bellatrix, prodding him hard with her foot. He whimpered, and curled up again, certain, knowing that he would soon die...

"Bellatrix," the cold, immoral voice of Severus Snape filled the hall. He was looking completely uncaring towards one of his previous student's plight, as he looked only upon Bellatrix. "We have a deadline..."

"Let me finish..." she hissed at him, before turning back to look at the boy without pity. "What's your name?" He whimpered again, but she kicked him hard in the side, and he doubled over once again in pain. "ANSWER ME!"

"Nick!" he yelled, tears and snot pouring down his pale face. "Nick Fawcett!" Bellatrix gloried in his fear. She felt in control, again, and being in control was her absolute favourite feeling.

"Well, Nick Fawcett," she said in an almost conversational tone. "Goodbye. Avada Kedavra!" her jet of green light hit him in the chest, and he fell back, deflated, onto the floor with a satisfying thunk. There was no noise in the hall. The students looked upon her, covered in blood, and grinning. They all feared her, at that moment, even more than they feared Voldemort. She let out a wild laugh, and smiled evilly at them. "Goodnight," She laughed, and followed her fellow Death Eaters out of the hall, blasting the doors of their hinges.

So now, Bellatrix ran through the forest, towards the bright light in the distance, feeling the wetness of beautiful, crimson blood on her hands and her boots. It felt amazing, and she was animalistic, as she cavorted like a wild animal through the woods. Eventually, she burst out of the woods, just in front of the others, and ran down the grass. She saw a hut, and began, in her craze, to yell.

"Hagrid?" She squealed, pointing towards the hut. "Hellooooooo?" She was using her baby voice again, and everyone knew what she was going to do. "Are you there?"

"You coward!" A voice echoed through the broken night, a voice that wasn't mad, a voice that was so filled with hate that it almost cracked. At that moment, she pointed her wand at the wooden cabin, and it erupted into flames. The towering inferno roared into the night sky, as smoke and the smell of burning pine filled the air. She laughed, jumping up and down, cheering! Then, when she heard the angry voice yell out again, she reluctantly turned around from the fire, to see Harry Potter storming down the grass, screaming at Snape. She cackled, and turned her wand on the boy instead.

"Crucio!"

Harry fell to the floor, bellowing in pain. Bellatrix ran beside him, ready to continue her torture, her heart beating in ecstasy at the pain she was causing, at the feeling she was causing. She raised her wand again, like a spider ready to strike, but she felt a cool hand grab her wrist. She pulled it away violently, glaring at Snape. How dare he break her out of her joyous non-reality?

"He is the Dark Lords!" Bellatrix spat at Snape, but sauntered off after her allies, as Snape stayed behind. He was saying something to the boy, but she didn't quite catch what he was saying, and she didn't particularly care. All she felt was that her energy was draining... And she was starting to not feel anything anymore. She was becoming an empty shell again. And as she grabbed the arm of her nephew, Draco, and assisted him in disapperating away, she began to feel her heart freeze once again.


	3. Chapter 3

Bellatrix sat near the end of a long, rich brown, wooden table. Many chairs were placed around the edges of the table, and the room was lit only by a flickering fire that was placed behind a tall chair in which a thin, almost translucently pale man sat; he was completely still. The room would have been richly decorated, but most of the sumptuous furniture was pushed carelessly against the walls. Some of the chairs were overturned, and the portraits, although silent, were looking very disapproving of the mess in the room.

However, Bellatrix felt no disapproval. She felt powerful, and happy, sitting in her seat of glory near _him..._Her dark master. She could barely keep her dark, heavily lidded eyes from meeting his cold red ones, and it made her sad that even if their eyes met, by chance, his eyes would flicker away. She knew she was not his favourite Death Eater anymore, and it was so _unfair._It was that Snape. Snape.

She felt her heart fill with poison when she thought about _Snape._He sat there, their master's right hand man, not even looking smug at his place of honour. He didn't even look bothered that he was in his master's good books; he looked almost bored by the proceedings. Bellatrix sometimes compared herself to him, and thought again, it was so UNFAIR.

She clenched her hands so hard that she felt her sharp nails dig into her skin, drawing blood. She glared under her eyelids at that disgusting greasy haired old git, with no talent at all. She felt only hate and contempt for him, and she almost felt tears drip from her eyes thinking about her master. How could he give _Snape_his secrets, and not even bother to let her know _ANYTHING?_Yes, she was still in his inner circle, and yes, he still prided her as one of his best Death Eaters, but still, she had to be the best! She was not about to take orders from _Snape._

The git himself had just arrived late with Yaxley, and had sat down like he was king of the world, not begrudging himself a contemptuous smirk at Bellatrix. She imagined herself strangling him, ripping his disgusting hair out, and breaking his nose with her hard fists. Then, she thought her adrenalin filled state; the Dark Lord would come in and embrace her, and tell her that he truly admired her, and would she be his Dark Queen...?

Voldemort had started speaking, now, and she turned her arrogant gaze to his beautiful face... Oh how she _hated_him. How could he turn her away, his most loyal servant, and take the advice of Snape instead? She would prove him wrong, she would prove to him that she, his most loyal servant, could do anything, and prove that she loved him more than anything! She would kill for him, she would destroy herself for him, hadn't she already proved that?

"My Lord," she said, her voice husky, constricted with emotion. "It is an honour to have you here, in our family's house. There can be no higher pleasure." And she truly meant it. She saw Voldemort look at her, and felt the joy of knowing that he was looking at _her_, his attention was on her, and nobody else. She relished his eyes on hers. She felt her heart fill with emotion again, like it had in June, and she felt warmth from head to toe...

"No higher pleasure," repeated Voldemort. His head, snake-like, tilted to one side as he considered her. She let her dark, curly hair fall in front of her face, and she hoped she looked stunning at that moment. "That means a great deal, Bellatrix, from you."

Bellatrix felt like she was in a warm bath, and the love and feeling that filled her made her feel young! She was a teenager again, overwhelmed by passion, and lovestruck... She was wallowing in passion, and it felt amazing!

"My Lord knows I speak nothing but the truth!"

But then it was all over. He began to speak harsh words, and she felt like someone had taken the plug out her warm bath, and began to fill it with ice. She was FURIOUS! She could hear laughter, at her and her sister, and her sister's family, and she wanted to stand up and strike somebody, to kill everyone in the room, to torture them all, especially _him!_She was angry, and felt like her heart was being hacked into little pieces. But then it was over, and she smiled. Relief, hot, passionate relief filled her heart, and she felt good, happy emotion fill her heart again.

It was joy like she'd never felt it to feel his acceptance, and she wanted to hold him tight. She loved him at that moment, and she wanted him to love her back, but her heart was breaking because he'd never love her, and she knew that...

Bellatrix didn't understand her emotions. One minute she loved him, and wanted him to hold her, to love her... Then the next she hated him, wanted to strange the life out of him, to end his existence... And suddenly, just with his sweet, sweet acceptance, she was whole again, and her heart was mended.

After the meeting had ended, she went and stood by his side. He looked up at her, but his face showed no emotion. She tried to look as contemptuous as she could as she stood on his left side; Severus Snape stood on his right. After the Death Eaters had all filtered out, along with Snape, she turned to Voldemort and said,

"My Lord?"  
>"Yes, Bella?"<p>

"I... I love you." She said. She kept her eyes downcast, as the terror and fear filled her, as she felt his gaze upon her. Then, without replying, he got up, and left the room. She heard his robes swish as he slammed the door, and she felt the icy silence surrounding her.

She went, and sat down at her place, and put her head in her hands. She was filled with emotion again. But it was not a good emotion.


	4. Chapter 4

"Filthy little _MUDBLOOD!__"_ Spat Bellatrix Lestrange. She was straddling the bloody, brown haired girl, and she felt her heart beating with such evil fervour that she wanted to strangle the life out of this little child already. But no, thought Bellatrix, she felt emotion so little that she had to enjoy the times she did. She would torture this child, her warped imagination was already picturing ripping her fingernails out one by one; picturing herself carving Mudblood into the girls arm, and picturing torture like only the most twisted people could think of. And Bellatrix... She was twisted.

The girl had stolen her sword, yes, but really she just needed an excuse to hurt somebody. Ever since the Dark Lord had rejected her... She'd wanted to rip something apart limb from limb, and even if the girl was telling the truth, what did she care. She could feel the blood of Hermione under her hands, and it was only by chance that she did not lick it up. She knew her animalistic tendencies were the cause of madness, but somehow, she liked that. She embraced being a weapon. She knew she had nothing to live for, so she'd just live as a weapon, something to be used, and something to be looked at. She knew she was beautiful. She knew she was strong and powerful. She relished power.

She felt power at that moment, as she tortured Hermione.

"Where did you find my sword?" The girl sobbed on the floor, screaming with agony as Bellatrix starting torturing her again.

"_Crucio_!" The spell hit Hermione hard, and Bellatrix felt her heart leap! Torturing people gave her feelings that filled her with passion and joy, and made her happy! This, she knew, was why she tortured! Because the feeling it brought on were phenomenal! Even the great, "good" Harry Potter would feel elated if he only had the chance to have this power over someone; to be able to exercise such control; and to be able to hurt something, to draw blood! Bellatrix's empty shell could only be filled with blood or suffering. She loved that.

"Please! We didn't steal it, we found it!" Bellatrix was jolted back to reality by the girl's pathetic response. Bellatrix laughed, and the evil, insane laughter filled the room like a scream, such was the madness of it.

"Crucio! Tell the truth!" The girl screamed again, as her wide, milky brown eyes glazed with tears. Bellatrix glared evilly at the girl, as the energy pumped through her, and she was so joyous at that moment, because she was causing this child so much pain, that she felt inhuman!

Bellatrix was cackling hysterically as she tortured the girl, then, suddenly, she had a change of heart, and she realised something. If the child had got the sword from her vault... Her expression suddenly serious and terrifying, she turned back to Hermione.

"I'll ask you one more time. WHERE DID YOU GET IT?" She got up and kicked the child's side hard. She screamed in rage as Hermione doubled over in pain, shrieking as the ache from the cruciatus curse was undermined by the stabbing pain in her side.

Seeing the girl was intent on this LIE, Bellatrix felt both fear and absolute fury. Her master had put the cup in her vault, and if the sword had gone, what if the cup had been taken too? She felt emotion, she knew that, but she did not want this sort of emotion, not at all! What if the cup was gone? It was so treasured to her master, what if it had been taken? It was put in her care, and he'd kill her if she'd lost it; most likely he'd hurt her and humiliate her before he did! 

Growling with an inhuman anger, she turned back to the girl.

"You have one more chance, you little bitch, to tell me where it IS!" Bellatrix yelled at the snivelling child. Then, she pulled a short, sharp knife from underneath her robes, and began to fondle it. When Hermione did not answer with anything more than strangled sobs, she straddled her chest again, and grinned mentally at her prey.

Hermione looked petrified. "W... What are you going to do to me?"

Bellatrix did not answer, but ripped the girl's sleeve up, and put the knife near the blue veins on her wrists. Hermione's eyes popped with terror, as Bellatrix almost tenderly pricked her wrist. A tiny droplet of blood spouted from the wound, and the girl winced. Bellatrix then began to carve MUDBLOOD into Hermione's arm.

Bellatrix felt elated. She was in heaven! The girl's screams were music to her ears, as her knife slowly and painfully dragged down Hermione's arm, screeching swearwords, and yelling abuse at the girl, who was screaming too, but in pain and distress, not in ecstasy. Bellatrix's usually empty shell was full to the brim and tipping over with Hermione's blood and suffering, and Bellatrix felt almost human again: she felt, she could breath, she could feel her cold, stone heart break free, and beat as hard as a mad drummer! She felt mad, and she loved hearing the screams caused by she, herself, Bellatrix! She'd never felt so alive! Then, she had a thought.

"Did the dirty little goblin in the cellar help you? Draco!" she summoned her nephew with a flick of her talon, and he stumbled over, looking ashen faced at watching the torture. "Draco, fetch the goblin in the cellar!"

The night went downhill from then on. Harry Potter had escaped her again! She'd almost cried with anger as she saw him grab the hand of that disgusting house-elf and escape her. With an anguished cry, she raised her knife, and threw it with all her womanly strength towards the disappearing figure. It met its target, and Bellatrix heard, with extreme satisfaction, a quiet scream, just as they apperated away.

Bellatrix paid dearly for the fun she'd had. After the Dark Lord was done, she resembled the sobbing wreck that she'd made Hermione only hours earlier. But she didn't care. Her emotion, though draining away, was still there. For once, Bellatrix felt alive.


	5. Chapter 5

"Not my daughter, you bitch!" Molly Weasley came sprinting out of the hordes of people, her ginger hair flying behind her like fire. She stood at the end of a long, wooden table, and pointed her slightly too short wand at Bellatrix Lestrange. Molly felt her heart beating, and knew it was crazy, but she could not let this woman kill anymore people! She would try to end it, and if she couldn't kill Bellatrix, at least she'd die trying...

Bellatrix was not feeling worried. She'd felt her heart speed up a little as she'd heard someone who did not sound like an insolent teenager behind her, but as she pivoted around to face her challenger, she couldn't help laughing. Who did this stupid, fat, ugly house-wife think she was? Molly was staring her down, and Bellatrix couldn't help but laugh again: her madness was overwhelming...

Bellatrix had been having a good day. She was like a dementor, she supposed, because when she killed someone (sucked their life away) she felt good. And she'd killed many, many people that night. She felt practically inhuman: she was a goddess, Bellatrix the Demon of Death, here to kill those who were not strong, and not able to fight her. She had blood on her face from where she'd watched Greyback ripping Lavender to shreds: she'd laughed manically at that. Watching that pretentious little girls face as she was eaten alive was hilarious! When most would remember the battle with shudders and tears, Bellatrix was certain she'd remember it as one of the best days of her life. All that suffering! All that blood! All that TORTURE! Her empty shell was overflowing, the blood pouring out, but being constantly replenished. Bellatrix knew she was not an empty shell anymore! She was alive, she was human, and to keep herself alive and human she would have to kill, or she'd die trying.

So when she saw Molly Weasley standing behind her, wand pointed steadily at Bellatrix's heart, she didn't think too much of it. She sauntered over to the fat woman, raising her wand, and smiling maliciously. This stupid old woman would not live for long, Bellatrix thought. She'd stop her dying in poverty maybe ten or fifteen years later. Looking at the mother in front of her, Bellatrix felt no cares for her children: she'd already murdered Fred Weasley by blasting a wall on top of him. It had been so funny to watch that Ministry slime Percy Weasley crying on him. She'd been tempted to kill the filthy other twin as well, but decided that it would be more painful if George Weasley had a little while to mourn his twin before she ended his life too.

"Come on then, granny. Show us what you've got!" Bellatrix taunted the woman, feeling more madness bubble past her lips. She noticed that there were only two duels left; her and Molly and her master and some other people about 100 metres away from her. Bellatrix frowned a little, realising that most of her comrades were fallen or bound. That could be changed, Bellatrix thought, after she'd killed this pathetic woman.

Molly aimed a spell at her, and she ducked; it hit an overhanging curtain which burst into flames. Bellatrix snarled a little, and cursed Molly, but Molly's shield charm made the killing curse bounce off and fly out of an already smashed window. Grinding her teeth it frustration, Bellatrix began to duel properly.

That was the most fun she'd had in ages! Watching this grandma leaping up and down, her rolls of fat practically bouncing with her, made her snort with contemptuous laughter. Her eyes rolled back in her head, as her green jet of light flew within a centimetre of Molly's frizzy hair. She was still laughing maniacally, as she yelled, "What will your children do when I've killed you? When mummy's gone the same way as Freddy?"

"You... Will... Never... Touch... Our... Children... AGAIN!" A red jet of light whizzed through the air and landed just above Bellatrix's heart...

Bellatrix froze.

She could feel immense pain emanating from her chest, but barely felt it: her shell was almost empty again. She tried to move forwards, but for some, strange reason her legs wouldn't move. Angry, she tried to move her wand on Mrs Weasley again, but her arm wouldn't move either. She felt the pain from her chest begin to spread, slowly, oh so slowly like poison, through her body. The hall was silent, and all were looking upon her pale, gaunt face. She felt her mouth open, in what must have looked like surprise, as her eyes rolled back in her head...

"_It's a girl." Druella held her baby self, holding her loosely in thin, cold arms as Baby Bellatrix desperately tried to snuggle into her mother, but she was snatched away, and held by strong arms. Maybe this was somebody who'd hold her tight? Bellatrix tried to embrace this person too, but her daddy dropped her, and yelled as she bit his leg with her hard gums HARD. _

"_Bellatrix, Andromeda, this is your sister Narcissa." Bellatrix was holding Baby Andromeda's hand as they toddled into their mother's room. The woman was holding a small, almost ethereal thing. It was very tiny, but as it opened its mouth, it let out a very large shriek._

"_I don't like it," said Bellatrix, confused to why this Narcissa thing was in HER limelight, being held by HER mummy. "Take it back. It's not nice." Andromeda was burrowing into her side, desperately trying to escape this squawking little thing that was her SISTER. She didn't like it anymore than Bellatrix did. _

"_Bewwa, come back! I can't run as fast as you and Meda!" Narcissa was running along on plump, chubby little legs. Her elder sisters, now 7 and 5, were racing ahead, laughing together. Narcissa, fed up, fell over and cried. But then, she heard the sounds of scuffling ahead, and saw two shadows approaching her. She looked up to see Bellatrix standing over her, looking gentle. She picked up Narcissa, and held her against her breast, mumbling into her soft, sweet smelling blonde hair._

"_I love you, Bewwa." _

"_I love you too, Cissy." _

_Bellatrix stood at the end of the long train, looking bored. She saw a compartment nearly full of boys who looked about her age, and sauntered in. They wolf-whistled, but mostly went back to what they were doing. But a boy with scruffy dark hair and blue eyes was still gazing at her, hypnotised._

"_What?" She said bluntly. He went scarlet, and turned away, but not before another boy with long, sandy hair noticed and laughed. _

"_Hey, Dolph likes a girl!" He had a nice, bubbly voice, and Bellatrix liked him immediately. He had heavily lidded eyes, like hers, but his were hazel coloured. He looked quite a bit like her. _

"_Who're you?" Bellatrix said to the boy who'd just spoken. He smiled at her, a little in surprise, but extended his hand. Bellatrix shook it, and he spoke again,_

"_My name's Evan Rosier. And that," he pointed at the blushing boy who was trying to hide his face now. "Is Rodolphus Lestrange. What's your name?"  
>"Bellatrix Black." she replied. Then Evan grinned, almost laughed.<em>

"_Hey, we must be related! Aren't you the daughter of Druella Rosier? She's my dad's sister!" _

"_We're cousins!" she smiled, and for once the look of aliveness filled her life. She and Evan sat and chatted the whole journey, and "Dolph" looked over every few minutes to look envious._

_Bellatrix approached the alter, and said her vows. Rodolphus was looking pompous in front of her. She was dying. He put the ring on her finger. She was dead._

And as Bellatrix actually died, she realised that she'd been dead for so, so long.

The End.

_Reviews, please!_


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